Tempests
by hobgoblin123
Summary: Set on the boat on their way to Mount Shaitan; browsing through Tarrant's itinerary Damien makes an astounding discovery, but the Hunter isn't amused concerning the disclosure of his little secret. At first, that is... Rather explicit slash Tarrant/Vryce and therefore just for adults. Sorry, kiddos!


**Tempests**

Disclaimer: I still don't own neither the Coldfire Trilogy nor William Shakespeare and his works etc. pp.

Warnings: Slash; rated M for a reason (explicit language and sexual content)

A/N: Of course I know that we had a rather similar plot in Black Dragon's Ghosts 'Curiosity killed the adept' recently. It's just a case of convergent evolution again (this fic was started at roundabout the same time she wrote her story), and she's okay with me posting this. I asked, so please don't flame me for _'stealing'._.. Hugs and a thousand heartfelt thanks, lovey!

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Now would I give a thousand furlongs / of sea for an acre of barren ground (William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act I scene 1)

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Grimly Damien watched the menacing dark clouds gathering in the western sky and clutched the wheel tighter, wondering what the heck he was supposed to do when the storm Tarrant had raised would finally get going while the Hunter was still confined to his shelter deep down in the cargo hold. Damn the bloody bastard and the needs and restrictions of his inhuman body! Vryce muttered a vicious curse under his breath, but deep down in his heart he had to admit that he was a lot more concerned about the adept's safety than his own for very private reasons he'd rather banish to the realms of pitiful delusions instead of facing the bitter truth that his hatred of the Hunter had been miraculously transformed into something altogether different.

For months now Damien had tried to convince himself that he didn't give a damn for his undead companion, that he just had to keep Tarrant alive and kicking because he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell to battle the sadistic Iezu intent on enslaving mankind on his own, but the stark panic when Gerald had been dragged off to his personal hell for eternal punishment had doubtlessly given him some thought for food. His outrage and emotional pain at witnessing Gerald's torment at the hands of his cruel '_benefactors_' had confirmed his suspicion that his feelings for the adept had undergone a very unsettling change indeed, and there was no denying that the vulking son of a bitch had grown on him, had become not just an ally against all odds and a brother in arms but a treasured friend despite his hellish trappings, but unfortunately that was just half the truth. In fact Vryce had repeatedly caught himself feasting his eyes on the Hunter with open admiration lately, marvelling at the adept's catlike grace and ethereal beauty like a moonstruck teenager suffering from a very bad case of hormonal overkill, and that was a truly alarming development. Having spent the last years as a regular victim of Gerald's caustic remarks the warrior knight was very well capable of imagining the vials of vitriolic scorn heaped on his poor, besotted self if Tarrant ever found out about this accursed affliction, and the mere thought made the cold sweat break out on his brow.

Almost toppling over when the boat was hit by a wave higher than the previous ones Vryce sighed and forced his straying thoughts back to the more urgent problems at hand. If their wretched floating device sunk without trace because its inept sailor was miles away he wouldn't have to worry about his forbidden feelings for a creature of the night called the Darkest Prince of Hell any longer, but the warrior knight shuddered at the thought that their demise would give Calesta plenty of rope for remoulding their planet to his liking. All things considered he would be better off to abandon his futile pining for Tarrant and concentrate on his negligible sailing skills instead if they didn't want to wind up feeding the fishes.

Miserably Damien let his eyes wander until he focussed on the pack Tarrant had left behind when descending hastily into his lightless hold below decks, and his mood brightened considerably. For months on end the adept had spent the better part of his rare leisure hours with copying down notes and site plans in a small itinerary bound in his trademark midnight blue silk, and if Damien was lucky the bloody know-it-all had somehow felt compelled to expatiate upon sailing and battling a veritable tempest during those long months of their Novatlantis crossing. Tarrant certainly wouldn't cherish an intrusion into his privacy, but under the given circumstances he might turn a blind eye to Damien's trespass if his notes helped them to avoid sinking like a millstone before they even had a chance to put an end to Calesta's manipulations.

Still feeling slightly guilty and more than a tad queasy despite his assurances that he was acting from sheer necessity Damien rummaged through the adept's pack, deliberately ignoring three canteens of blood and a well-known silver cup engraved with the Tarrant family crest until he found the diary in question wrapped carefully into a spare tunic. Drawing a deep breath Vryce flipped the book open and browsed through the pages inscribed with Gerald's neat handwriting until a marvellously executed pencil drawing grabbed his attention. The Neocount of Merentha had been many a thing in his relatively short human life span from nobleman, courtier and commander of Gannon's troops to author of the Holy Scriptures and more mundane writings alike, and even after the passing of a millennium it was still a well known fact to the higher ranks of the Church of Unification that the stunning piece of poetry expressed in cold, white marble called Merentha Castle had been designed by the Prophet himself after he had been created Neocount for his services to king and country. Damien hat never seen the place where the paramount founder father of their faith had slaughtered his deplorable wife and children with his own eyes, but pictures of the soaring Revivalist edifice rather resembling a fairy-tale castle than a humble human dwelling with its finials, arched stained-glass windows and perfect proportions should have taught Damien long ago that the soul of a natural-born artist had resided in Gerald Tarrant prior to his abysmal downfall.

The portrait of a Knight of the Flame which surpassed his own lamentable efforts to capture the Hunter's regal presence for the Patriarch's benefit by far was the striking proof that the adept's skills and unerring aesthetic sense hadn't suffered from death and resurrection to an accursed unlife beyond the grace of God, but shell-shocked at the sight of the utterly familiar and yet so different face staring at him from the page Damien couldn't spare but a fleeting thought on the manifold hidden talents of his immortal companion. To put it mildly it was rather astounding that the Hunter had deigned to spend his rare moments of peace and quiet on drawing Damien Kilcannon Vryce of all things, but it was the undeniable emotion shining forth from every stroke of the pencil that caused the warrior knight's heart to somersault wildly inside his chest.

Considering the transgression of vanity a waste of time and brain cells Damien had never cared much about his appearance, and although he wasn't altogether oblivious of the fact that the Lord had graced him with ruggedly handsome looks and a fit, muscular body he had never considered himself a irresistible heartthrob, but the man smiling at him with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes was simply stunning with his finely honed muscles and utterly harmonious features. Occasional glimpses in a mirror while ridding his visage of unwanted facial hair had done a good job in convincing Vryce that the kind of flawless masculine beauty depicted in the gorgeous drawing had eluded him even in the far away days of his youth when his complexion hadn't been ruined by camping out in the open while travelling at the behest of his Church and the passing of time yet. Damien had always been well advised to trust his gut feeling, and if he wasn't completely mistaken or lead up the garden path by one of Tarrant's Machiavellian manipulations the adept had very likely seen him through what had been called rose-coloured glasses on their mother planet Earth, something Damien wouldn't have thought possible in his wildest dreams.

Nonetheless a lot of mysterious occurrences in their stormy relationship suddenly made sense if he pushed his nagging doubts aside and acted on the unbelievable assumption that the Hunter somehow carried a torch for him. After all Tarrant had repeatedly refused to accept the nourishment Damien had volunteered for with lame subterfuges and had settled for feeding on a few meagre canteens of cold, disembodied blood instead, an utterly inadequate fare for a nocturnal predator preparing for the final battle, and astoundingly he had stayed at the warrior knight's side when they had been attacked by the bloodthirsty mob a few hours ago instead of transforming into a bird and flying to safety. Maybe Damien should have joined the dots sooner, but all those little hints had been smothered by a suffocating blanket of pretence and denial and their desperate fight for survival while trying to save the world along the way.

Sweating profusely Damien leafed through the pages and blinked in utter disbelief, for once at the loss of words. The drawing hadn't been the only one in fact, and although some of the others had apparently been executed in great haste there was no denying that he had represented the main focus for the Hunter's artistic efforts for quite a while now. The vivid pictures of the strange flora and fauna they had encountered on their travels had long been replaced by Damien Vryce sharpening his sword at the fire side or having a bath in a clear mountain lake, and evidently unimpeded by any shyness or decency whatsoever Gerald hadn't shied from paying full attention to the parts of Damien's anatomy usually hidden by his trousers, an amusing fact that made the warrior knight grin from ear to ear despite his bewilderment. If he wasn't jumping to unverified conclusions in his confused state of mind and they somehow managed to survive this blasted storm he wouldn't mind allowing the adept a closer peek or two at the body parts in question and extract his revenge by peeling the flowing silken robes off Tarrant's body piece by piece and embarking on his own exploration trip of a special kind until his companion begged for mercy.

The nigh to absurd image of the fiercely proud, self-restrained adept begging for _anything_ and moaning his name in a sensual frenzy got Vryce quite hot under his collar despite the chilly squalls, but all at once the howling wind dragged the boat into the trough of a wave and very nearly caused it to go over, and it took all of his strength to force it back into position. Drenched in sweat and cursing himself three times a fool for his mental absence the warrior knight decided that he had better cut down on his daydreaming or they would end up on the bottom of the sea instead of in each other's arms, and gritting his teeth he braced himself to battle the unleashed forces of nature.

Hours later the storm abated slightly, and Damien muttered a heartfelt prayer of thanks that they were still afloat and unharmed if one didn't count the pain in his shoulder blades and that he was shivering from cold and bone deep exhaustion. Shortly after sunset the Hunter finally emerged from the cargo hold and joined Damien at the wheel, and with a heartfelt sigh of relieve Damien unclenched his frozen hands from the wood he had held in a death grip for what had felt like an eternity and made for a bench fixed to the deck, but lost his balance and stumbled against Tarrant when another wave hit their battered boat. Reflexively he clung to the adept's shoulders like a lifeline, and when slender hands came up around his waist to steady him Damien's breath caught in his throat.

The former priest had always suspected that the aloof, arrogant Neocount hadn't been a man to encourage close body contact in his mortal life, and after he had struck his appalling bargain with the Unnamed the biting cold radiating from his body amply sufficed to discourage each and everyone tired of life or crazy enough to attempt a romantic encounter with the Hunter. Notwithstanding they had dragged each other to safety on more occasions Damien could actually count, and being so close to Gerald shouldn't have ignited the blazing fire deep down in Damien's abdomen which threatened to turn his legs into jelly. Squirming helplessly in the grip of a surge of desire so intense that he lost all capacity to move the warrior knight just tightened his grip and gazed spellbound at the angelic visage facing him with a slight frown.

"Are you alright, Vryce? The storm's over, and you can let go of me now. I won't run away. As you should know by now the Earth fae is still inaccessible so far off shore, and not only walking on water but shape-changing as well are quite beyond my talents for the time being, I'm afraid."

The corners of Gerald's mouth curled into an ironic smile, but to Damien's amazement there was no mistaking the emotion shining in his pale eyes for anything but honest concern, and his heart leaped into his throat. If Gerald had lifted so much as a finger in a manner that could have been interpreted as an indecent proposal at the beginning of their acquaintance Vryce would have drawn his sword and gone for the kill without a second thought, but apparently things had indeed changed profoundly over time, and throwing all caution to the wind he moved even closer until his lips were just an inch away from Tarrant's mouth, relishing in the the gliding of precious, soft silk over a masculine body as cold and unyielding as numarble and the eerie scent reminding him of northern lights reflected on snow-covered mountains which surrounded his undead companion even in midst of the dry season. Hoarfrost settled on his face and hair and his breath turned to clouds of vapour, but the flame of his arousal burned brighter than any frost or dark taint.

"You truly want me to let go of you, Gerald?" Damien choked out hoarsely. "Make me!"

Even in his hormone-befuddled state the warrior knight was well aware that his superior bulk wouldn't add up to a hill of beans if Gerald got fed up with his antics and came to the decision that a cold bath in the Serpent would serve nicely to punish his companion for his brazen advances, but instead of fending him off the Hunter froze and stared at him in unveiled distrust. "What's come over you, Vryce? Usually you're not the cuddly type, and I suspect that either the fear of drowning has addled your brain or you've fallen prey to one of Calesta's illusions. As you might be able to imagine both possibilities fail to appeal to me."

A frigid finger was pressed to Damien's cheek like a branding iron made from sheer glacier ice, and he swayed on his feet when the tendrils of a foreign presence invaded his mind, burning into his defenceless soul very much in the manner the serpentine creatures had burned into Tarrant's flesh like acid for his hellish tormentors' pleasure. Gathering the last remainders of his wits Damien desperately tried to suppress any treacherous thoughts concerning Tarrant's damned itinerary and the surprising revelation which had been sprung on him, but it was too late. The glittering silver eyes went wide with shock just to narrow to slits of rage a second later, and in the next instance Damien found himself flat on his back screaming in unbearable agony. When the pain subsided for a moment the warrior knight forced his watery eyes open and found Tarrant hovering over him like the angel of death ready to embrace its cowering victim with his raven wings. The adept's pupils had dilated so much that neither iris nor the white of the eye were visible any longer, and the feral fury on the beautiful face had been replaced by an utterly inhuman calm that froze the marrow inside Damien's bones.

"How can you dare, priest? I grant you that I have to spare your miserable life for now because I might need you to prevent Calesta from destroying my most treasured creation, but all has not been said and done concerning your trespass. If we both live you will answer to me for betraying my trust, and you won't like it. Take my word for it that what I'm doing to you now is but a small foretaste of the things laying in store for you. Sullied by the taint of your damned humanity I've gone easy on you for the last months, but I only make a mistake once, and you are going to beg for your death on your knees for a long time before I'm finished with you."

The Hunter raised his hand for a Working, and another wave of intolerable ache crashed down on Damien, digging its sharp talons into him and shaking his body like one of the pitch black raptors the Hunter preferred to choose for his transformations. To his dying day Damien wouldn't be able to describe the exact nature of the pain which had no real origin but the powerful, malevolent will which hadn't been thwarted for centuries and the ungodly, fathomless eyes alight with twisted pleasure at his suffering, but it felt as if his immortal soul was sucked out of him drop by drop and his quivering flesh was ripped from his very bones until he couldn't take it any longer and screamed and thrashed about like a man possessed. No human being could endure this kind of agony for long without going over the edge, and if Gerald didn't stop torturing him soon he would take the matter into his own hands and use his sword or throw himself into the cold waters of the Serpent. Gathering the last remnants of his resolve the warrior knight attempted to choke out a halfway intelligible explanation for his actions in between his bloodcurdling outcries. "Storm... sailing... information... itinerary...save you..."

Thank God the Hunter was well equipped with a supernatural hearing sense and a clever mind, and Damien sagged with relief when the crushing pain faded into nonexistence all of a sudden. Shaking like a leaf and gasping for air in between the dry sobs forcing themselves out of his heaving chest the warrior knight wasn't even capable to raise his pounding head, and the wet, rough planks beneath his tearstained cheek provided a most welcome pillow. His eyes closed Vryce didn't move a limb but settled for calming his breath and his racing heartbeat while pondering how to react to the latest crisis which had reared its ugly head like a bolt out of the blue.

A primal, vicious part of his self usually hidden deep down in his soul beneath layers of civilization and Church training longed for immediate retaliation, wanted to punish Gerald for his unspeakable assault, but attacking the adept in his weakened state would doubtlessly represent the last mistake he ever made in his life, not to mention that killing Gerald by a stroke of luck would boil down to serving Calesta their world on a silver plate. Besides a man who was expecting to walk right into death's gaping maw and the ensuing eternal torment in hell was naturally prone to overreacting. Likewise horrified at his uncalled-for emotions, the grim future prospects and the suspected betrayal by the one and only human being he had dared to trust and care for in a thousand years Tarrant had finally snapped and reacted the way his nature commanded, inflicting pain for his own pleasure in the process. Presumably any chance of taking their relationship to a new level had just gone down the drain for good, but they somehow still had to work together and agree on a truce. Heaving a sigh from the bottom of his soul Damien fought down his nausea and struggled to a sitting position.

"Ready to hear me out, Gerald? I had no intention whatsoever to spy on your secrets, but when you went below decks to avoid getting reduced to a pile of ashes I felt a tad overextended with regard to the upcoming storm, and I hoped that you included some information about sailing in that vulking itinerary of yours. God knows that you had ample opportunity when we crossed Novatlantis twice. Admittedly what I found was something altogether different, but if you'd given me the chance to explain instead of unleashing your wrath you might have found out that you're not the only one who harbours somewhat disconcerting feelings. We have to talk, Gerald", Damien continued awkwardly. "Under the given circumstances we can't get back to business as usual as though nothing had happened. With Calesta on our tail playing hide and seek with each other could be a deadly error, and having us at each others' throats for nothing at all would play directly into the damned Iezu's hands. "

"I wouldn't exactly call this mess _'nothing',_ Vryce", the Hunter whispered softly. "I've lost control and almost killed you, an unforgivable mistake in my situation, but it won't happen again. Just a few more days until my period of grace expires and you'll be freed of my undesirable presence anyway. And now get some rest as long as you can. You can feel certain that I don't intent to molest you in your sleep."

Struck by the abject misery in the adept's voice Damien heaved himself to his feet with a muffled, pained groan and walked over to his companion who stared fixedly into the distance. Gerald's pale, serene face belied the storm undoubtedly still raging behind the calm facade, but the former priest didn't fail to notice that the knuckles of his fingers clutching the wheel were white and his posture oddly rigid.

"Haven't you listened to me, you stubborn son of a bitch? If I'm not completely mistaken you've developed a crush on me. So what? Can't deny that it comes quite as a surprise, but I dare saying that it's not the end of the world. I've never been sexually attracted to a man before either and hadn't expected at our first meeting that you would beguile me into a kind of belated coming-out, but I wouldn't mind giving it a try."

"You had better refrain from acting on false assumptions and making a fool of yourself", Gerald retorted tetchily. "The problem's not your _gender_ but the compact and the strict rules of conduct it entails. The Forces of Darkness didn't transform my failing mortal body into something that can stand the test of time just for the fun of it. You always have to pay a price, Vryce. In the eyes of my merciless benefactors there's just one purpose for my continuing existence: weakening humankind and sowing the seeds for the Unnamed by creating havoc and striking fear into the human hearts. That's what I was created for, whether you like it or not. I'm well aware that you corrupted my pure evil with your ridiculous notions of redemption and your misguided amity, corrupted me just the way I undermined the purity of your faith with my hellish insinuations, but you know it's not the bonds of friendship we're talking about now. Any acts of procreation or even their mimicry are forbidden to me under penalty of death, and although taking you at your word is a rather tempting prospect I'm not very keen on hastening my impending demise."

Tarrant's veiled, tentative admission of very human longing took a load off Damien's mind, and relieved beyond words he grinned broadly despite his lingering discomfort. "This is one for the books! I had never expected to see the day your vulking brilliant brain cells failed to notice the obvious, Gerald. The compact you struck with the Unnamed doesn't exist any longer. You're a free agent now for the first time in a millennium, and I dare say this calls for a celebration. Not a blessed soul's around but the wind and the waves, and it might be our last chance at testing the waters. Call me a weird, horny idiot, but I want you. Here and now."

"You never fail to amaze me, Vryce. The pain I inflicted on you must have been beyond human comprehension, but instead of satisfying your thirst for revenge you're courting me? I always suspected that you felt inclined to act the martyr, but the masochistic tendencies you're displaying now are somewhat disturbing."

"Well, if you ever feel pressured into repeating that little trick of yours be prepared for a nasty surprise, but I have to admit that you had a hell of a time lately, no pun intended, and the suicidal task ahead is more than sufficient to drive any sane man over the edge. Sod it, I'm half mad with fear myself, but I don't want to bite the dust without having made love to you at least once. Consider it the last request of a man fated to die, but the ultimate decision is up to you. Care to thumb your pretty nose at the Unnamed?"

The Hunter just stared at him for a long time, and fidgeting under the scrutiny of the cold grey eyes Damien had almost abandoned all hope when long fingers suddenly let go of the wheel and settled on his hips, drawing him closer until their bodies made contact. Gerald's beautiful visage basked in the light of the Erna's moons which penetrated the dissolving storm clouds and lent the flawless skin an almost translucent, unearthly glow was very close now, and throwing all caution to the wind the warrior knight pulled him into his arms and pressed his mouth on the Hunter's frigid lips. Fearing he had made a mistake with his rushing ahead Damien held his breath when Tarrant stiffened in his embrace, but after a moment of breathless silence the adept relented and parted his lips with a low, shaky sigh, and drowning in a surge of naked desire Vryce deepened the kiss.

Exploring the Hunter's mouth and savouring his intoxicating scent like a seasoned wine his trembling fingers seemingly started to roam over the adept's body on their own account, gliding below layers of flowing, cool silk shrouding even cooler skin until he touched one of Gerald's nipples. As if by command slender hands loosened their grip on his hips and came up to relieve him of the burdensome duties to unfasten the numerous buttons and laces of Tarrant's robes, and groaning with impatience Damien pushed the bothersome garments aside and closed his mouth around the small nub of flesh, licking and sucking until Gerald's pelvis instinctively thrust itself forwards and commenced a slow rolling motion against his abdomen.

Feeling more than just a bit flattered Vryce hid his delighted smile at the Hunter's cold chest. If the adept hadn't taken to carrying a stick around in his trouser pockets lately his sexual organs worked just fine despite a thousand years of disuse, and there couldn't be a doubt that Damien's ministrations were rather well received. Slowly, teasingly, his right hand moved a bit further southwards to his new goal, massaging his lover's erection through his worsted pants until Gerald arched into his touch and moaned lasciviously. The sound of unadulterated pleasure threatened to overwhelm the last remnants of Vryce's self-control, and he almost keeled over when Tarrant started to reciprocate his favours in kind.

"Tit for tat, Vryce", the Hunter purred throatily, his half-lidded silver eyes gazing at Damien with barely veiled hunger, and for a moment the warrior knight was acutely reminded of an over-sized uncat languidly watching a cornered rodent and licking his lips with anticipation, but in the next instance the adept closed his chill fingers around his naked flesh and stroked in a tantalizingly slow rhythm which very nearly made him go up the wall with pleasure, and Damien instantly forgot all about the inhabitants of the animal kingdom. Dear God in Heaven, nothing, absolutely nothing had ever felt as good as this simple act of mutual masturbation, but his instincts screamed at him to bridge the remaining distance, to throw Gerald onto the bare planks and fuck them both into oblivion.

"Have you set your brilliant mind on driving me crazy, you vulking tease? I want you so badly it hurts!"

"Shush, Vryce! You'd better curb your impatience if you don't want to hurt a lot more while drowning the flames of your passion in the Serpent", Tarrant chuckled softly. "As much as I regret it being understandably not too keen on continuing our asinine pleasure trip underwater I have to concentrate some of my attention on the boat. Just lean your back against the wheel and leave the rest to me."

The Hunter's light tenor carried a distinctive commanding tone that would have been more than enough to raise Damien's hackles under normal circumstances, but for the time being he felt much too aroused to give a shit about foolish fights for dominance, and he obeyed to Gerald's order without so much as a whiff of protest. In the blink of an eye the tall, lithe body was pressed against his so much bulkier one again, and when a long, deathly pale leg came up and hooked around his buttocks Vryce dimly wondered where the heck Tarrant's trousers had gone all of a sudden and how they were supposed to proceed with regard to the deplorable nonavailability of a decent oil, but those petty troubles of the mundane world melted into thin air when his calloused sword hand was pried off Gerald's waist and guided to his perineum instead."

"You tend to forget that I'm an adept, Vryce. I'm in perfect control of my body, and as a matter of course I can deliberately relax my muscles and produce a lubricant if so desired. Notwithstanding I'm regrettably a tad out of practice, and it might be wise to go easy for a while."

_'Out of practice'?_ The determined, calm words penetrated the haze of Damien's desire, and he blinked his heavy eyelids open and gaped at the adept in baffled dismay. Up to now in the lights of Tarrant's family history he had somehow taken for granted that their sexual tryst was a first for his lover as well concerning homosexual dalliances, but the amusement and deep conviction in the silken voice convinced him of the contrary, and the warrior knight couldn't help but succumbing to a very unpleasant bout of jealousy which wasn't exactly mollified by the waves of smugness radiating from the alluring creature in his arms.

"Kindly inform me whether you are going to continue wasting our valuable time with worrying about long deceased lovers or you are poised to go ahead with the proceedings. Slowly but surely I'm straying into your accustomed territory by running out of patience."

His eyes sparkling like a pair of precious diamonds reflecting flickering candle light Gerald lent weight to his words by a teasing nip at Damien's exposed throat and an unambiguous thrust of his hips, and surrendering to the open invitation in his demeanour the warrior knight instantly decided to postpone further discussions to a more opportune moment. Ever so carefully he slid his middle finger into the adept's body, watching out for a hint of displeasure or pain on his lover's features, but to his astonishment instead of resistance or withdrawal his invasion was met with a wanton look that swept Damien off his feet.

"Just curl your finger now and let me do the work for you, Vryce", the Hunter whispered into his ear. "A cherished friend taught me to enjoy this a long time ago when I was still very, very young, and you should give it a try one day yourself. Admittedly it's a different kind of pleasure and not everybody's cup of tea, but be assured it reaps its own delightful rewards."

Slowly, gently Tarrant started to rock his hips, and Damien bit his lips when a cold hand closed around his attention-deprived penis and recommenced their thrilling fondling. He had never made love to a man before, but as a healer he was pretty much acquainted with the peculiarities of the male anatomy, and he wasn't altogether surprised that it made Gerald gasp when his finger skimmed over a small bump in front of the adept's rectum. Encouraged by his lover's quickening breaths and the shudders of arousal passing through the lean frame the warrior knight followed his intuition and added his index finger, applying gentle pressure and a circular rubbing motion every time his fingertips touched that spot again. It didn't take long before Tarrant forced the pace, each of his rhythmic pelvic thrusts accompanied by a lustful groan which went directly to Damien's groin, and spellbound he watched as the Hunter's eyes closed and he threw back his head in utter sensual abandon. Gerald wasn't human any longer and the parameters of his existence differed from the mortal plane by a long shot, but there couldn't be a doubt that he was inching his way towards his first orgasm in more than nine hundred years, and hence Damien was more than slightly baffled when he suddenly stopped his enticing activities and drew back.

The former priest never discovered how exactly it had come to pass, but in the next instance he found himself about two feet away and goggling in utter bewilderment at his companion who was leaning casually against the wheel, an eyebrow raised in sardonic amusement. In the heat of passion Damien had pushed the uniqueness of their situation to the back of his mind, but the Hunter's uncanny capacity to budge his considerable bulk like a weightless sack of feathers and move faster than the human eye could follow was fairly disconcerting. Before Vryce could have second thoughts Gerald graced him with a sultry come-hither smile and turned around to hold onto the wheel, and when the warrior knight realized what was expected of him his already severely impaired capacity for rational thinking shut down its function altogether.

"Be my guest and fuck me now, Vryce!" the Hunter challenged, and he didn't have to ask twice. Gliding effortlessly into the adept's undead body the icy, unearthly chill welcoming Damien took his breath away and caused his heart to skip a beat, and for a last lucid moment he faltered when the implications of the situation hit him with the force of a tsunami, but he had gone too far already to back off now. Rapidly approaching his own climax he couldn't stop himself from moving inside Gerald anymore than he could have stopped breathing, and when his first cautious motions were rewarded with a low whimper he almost lost control. Desperately Damien tried to concentrate on some of the mental patterns he usually utilized for a Working in order to calm himself, but his efforts to avoid a premature end to their lovemaking were somewhat sabotaged when the channel opened wide and allowed him access to his lover's pleasurable sensations. The unbearably arousing friction as he thrust into Gerald was mind-blowing on its own, but his lust was increased tenfold when he felt Tarrant's reaction to the sexual stimulation on a visceral level and shared the bliss of being filled and the responsive little bundle of nerves stimulated until every fibre of his being was on fire.

"Oh God, Gerald, I can't take this much longer. If you don't want this to end now it might be the last chance for an intervention on your part..."

Damien sighed with relief when the level of his arousal cooled down a notch all at once, and he counted his blessings that the Hunter's arousal apparently didn't have a detrimental influence on his capacity to Work. Gerald was moving with him now, his muscles rigid as iron under Vryce's grip and each of his sobbing breaths like a cry for release, but somehow he didn't seem to be able to reach the point of no return. Still uncomfortably close Damien dug his fingernails into his palms, so focussed on delaying his ejaculation that he wasn't even aware that small rivulets of blood were running down his hands and dripping on the deck. Abruptly Tarrant froze in mid-motion and perked his head up like a scenting wild animal, and a cold shiver ran down Damien's spine. Naturally he couldn't see Gerald's face in his position, but his power of imagination provided him with a vivid picture of the delicate nostrils flaring at the smell of his lifeblood and the mesmerizing silver eyes flashing with unveiled hunger, and all at once he knew what his lover lacked to find fulfillment. Nibbling gently at the pale nape he raised his bleeding hands to the Hunter's face.

_"_Stop fussing and take the damned blood, Gerald! You need it, and it won't hurt me."_  
_

A violent jolt passed through the Hunter's body as his frigid tongue greedily lapped up the red liquid still oozing from the small wounds, and the moist wood creaked in protest under the death grip of his fingers. Tarrant moaned ecstatically, a sound so wanton that it went right through Damien and instantly overrode the already crumbling barriers of his self-control. Half crazed with naked want the warrior knight abandoned all restraint and picked up speed until internal muscles tightened around him and the lean body of his lover convulsed with a muffled outcry that could very well have been his name. Damien saw stars as Gerald's orgasm triggered his own, and for a while he perceived nothing but the irresistible pulse in his groin and the unbelievably satisfying sensation as he spilled his seed in the adept's writhing body .

When Vryce came halfway to his senses his knees were trembling, but presumably thanks to Gerald's Working he was still hard and buried deeply inside Tarrant who continued to move in a slow, hypnotic rhythm as if in a trance, and with a start Damien realized the adept evidently planned to catch up on a thousand years of enforced celibacy and had no intention whatsoever of contenting himself with a single peak of pleasure.

_More, Vryce! Don't you stop now..._

Despite still feeling slightly light-headed the warrior knight had no choice but to yield to the overpowering, faeborn lure of Tarrant's heated requests invading his vulnerable mind via the channel, but he turned into a semblance of the biblical pillar of salt when the Hunter arched his back and twisted his neck in an utterly inhuman motion until his mouth came to rest close to the veins in Vryce's throat. Up to now the adept had bitten him only once when he had driven his teeth into Vryce's arm in a blind, instinctive struggle for survival after they had rescued him from the grate he'd been roasting on like a suckling pig for eight days, and the experience hadn't been a pleasant one to say the least, but deliberately the warrior knight suppressed those discouraging reminiscences and refocused on the here and now.

Even, white teeth touched his burning skin, but although Damien felt his lover's body shake with barely suppressed need Gerald held his fire and waited for his consent, and a warm rush of affection for the man whose humanity had been rekindled against all odds swept over the former priest. A mere year ago Tarrant would have stopped at nothing to satisfy his unholy cravings and to hell with everybody who dared to rain on his parade, but _'tainted'_ by Damien's humanity he had indeed changed a lot. In fact both of them had changed. The once clearly defined lines between good and evil had been eradicated by the Hunter's corrupting presence just as he had foretold until black and white had merged into a questionable twilight zone and Vryce's appalled revulsion concerning the former Prophet of the Law had been replaced by caring, forgiveness and something deeper and more fragile. This wasn't just about the satisfaction of needs or a plain case of infatuation any longer but about love in the truest sense of the word, love that didn't condemn but accepted one's beloved with his all his faults and quirks. It couldn't be disputed that the adept's shortcomings were a tad more on the lethal side than the usual human peculiarities, but he simply was what the Evil One had made of him a thousand years ago, and in his blissful state of afterglow Damien couldn't bring himself to deny Gerald what he longed for.

_Yes!_

For a drawn out moment that seemed to stretch into eternity the Hunter hesitated, but then he surrendered to his appetences with a wistful sigh, and the warrior knight trembled when the adept's tongue chilled his flesh beyond pain and needle-sharp fangs of ivory which definitely hadn't existed a mere minute ago softly pierced his skin. It didn't hurt as Vryce had expected, didn't hurt at all, but to his last breath he wouldn't be able to figure out his response to Tarrant's bite and the strangely sensual sensation of the cold lips suckling like a babe at his mother's breast. Paradoxically Damien's senses sharpened while his immediate surroundings with the notable exception of Gerald faded into nonexistence, and his olfactory nerves drank in the eerie scent of stars blazing in the depths of space and the breathe of the dark fae which danced at the peripheral edge of his vision and lent the night an otherworldly beauty. His bodily needs met and almost moved to tears by the staggering sensory input so utterly alien to the mortal world and his elation that Gerald was inside him now as well, was a part of his flesh and soul in that wondrous moment, Vryce didn't feel up to joining him on his journey to his second climax but settled for pleasuring his lover. Tarrant's mounting arousal raced through his body though, caused his pelvis to move faster, harder, forcing the panting adept ahead in a boundless circle of pleasure until the Hunter jerked spasmodically in his arms, burying his teeth in Damien's throat with a vengeance and screaming into his bleeding flesh like a man suffering agonies.

The first Damien noticed when he came to was the fierce, burning ache in his neck, followed by the sound of the lapping waves and the soft rustle of silk as Tarrant turned around from his place at the wheel and faced him. Not a single speck or wrinkle marred the Hunter's lavish robes and his alabaster face was utterly devoid of any human emotion whatsoever, but by now Damien knew him well enough to recognize the tension in his shoulders and the barely discernible line between the elegantly arched eyebrows as a sure sign of distress.

"You look pale, Gerald. I hope I didn't wear you out too much. Remember that I still need you to kill that vulking bastard Calesta", Damien quipped in a vain attempt to lighten the mood, but the Hunter didn't so much as bat an eyelash at his feeble joke, and the warrior knight's guts tightened with apprehension. "What is it, love? Are you alright?" he continued somewhat sobered.

"This mustn't happen again, Vryce. The consequences are... inconceivable."

Fraught with worry Damien was on his feet in a blink, but had to sit down rather abruptly on the alteroak bench when the world started swaying irritatingly and his leaden legs threatened to give way under him. "What do you mean, '_this mustn't happen again'_? What's just come to pass between us was the best thing that has ever occurred to me in my whole life, and in case we survive battling our arch enemy I'm bloody eager on it happening again and again until we're both old and grey. Well, until I'm old and grey, that is. Hope you still fancy me when I'm a wrinkled, shakily dodderer. "

"The _'best thing that has ever occurred to you'_ very nearly killed you, Vryce", the Hunter whispered. "Just have a look at yourself in a mirror, and you'll see what I'm talking about. As you very well know a true Healing is beyond me, but I sealed the wounds as best as I could. Everything else will have to wait until we go ashore and the earth fae is accessible for you. You will have to accelerate the formation of your blood cells as well. In the throes of passion I lost control and took too much of your blood, another unforgivable mistake I don't care to repeat."

Registering the sorrow and barely veiled agitation in Tarrant's low voice Damien's heart jumped for joy, and he struggled to his feet and pulled his lover into a tight, comforting hug. "So you came undone and gave in to the demands of your nature. To hell with it! After all you didn't kill me, and the termination of your vulking compact seems to have truly triggered some unexpected side effects. You can feel compassion now, Gerald, regret that you jeopardized my life, and don't you dare pretending that it's just because you need a handy nutcase who's willing to die at your side. 'The name of the One God is mercy' you wrote a thousand years ago, and there's still hope for redemption. That's the gospel truth! Can't you get that into your stubborn head and stop fretting for once?"

The Hunter just shook his head, but his arms wrapped around the warrior knight's waist and pulled him closer, and his forehead came to rest on a broad, muscular shoulder in a gesture of utter trust that very nearly moved Vryce to tears. Damien smiled tenderly. Gerald was well on his way to reclaim his humanity, and if they both survived the showdown with Calesta he would stick with him through thick and thin and do all that was humanly possible to deliver him from the clutches of hell. Tonight they had finally nailed their colours to the mast and had struck a league forged in love, desire and a sprinkling of blood which would last until death claimed one of them and maybe beyond. Nothing else mattered.


End file.
